Lorevember Day 4: Relics of Power / The Voices of Ancestors(Vaguely) / Sacred Texts

Merriam Webster Word of the Day: Amalgamate

The Contents of This Scroll Are Reserved for the Serving Highfather and the Council of Gentlemen

My name is Lyafus Nownsatr, the 41st Highfather of our glorious church. I am writing this scroll to preserve the following knowledge that now only exists inside of my memory following the burning of the Grand Library in the second year of my tenure. Much knowledge was sadly lost that day, only a quarter of the texts were left untouched and about half of them were completely destroyed with no hopes of restoration. By my order, any and all academics and men of faith started to document what they could remember of the lost texts, in hopes that with multiple different sources for the same text we will be able to restore it as close as we can whilst ironing out any mistakes caused by our mortal minds failing us.

The content of this text, however, were only known to me and my late predecessor who died in the fire whilst trying to save the texts valiantly. For this reason, never take what you are about to read as gospel. It is sure to be littered with missing contents and inaccuracies. And it is merely a summarization of an once human-head-thick book.

With my introduction and warning over, I shall start.

Not much is known about the Lord of Demons, for the general public. We of faith know little more about him. He is not a Demon born of our sins, not a nightmare given form, a punishment issued by our Lords and Ladies, or whatever else the common folk talk about him. The Lord of Demons was once a man, much like us. A King that served our Lords and Ladies just as our Kings did and continue to do so. A devout man, much more inquisitive than his peers.

He ruled the lands he continues to rule to this day, only they weren't clouded by cursed clouds or covered in the ashes of crusaders. However, it was not a paradise either. It was a dry land, where plants couldn't reach the healthy green, they should have, where rain was a celebrated event, and where only the hardiest of produce could grow. And yet during his reign, it was the most prosperous of all the kingdoms on the three continents.

He was a studied man, having roamed down the hallways of our very own Grand Library and its smaller cousins. A third son that was never supposed to inherit nor serve as the spare and was thus left to his own devices. Yet, he did come to rule. His brothers fought for succession when their dying father named the second son his heir. They say the two came to blows at the town square of their capital and duelled at the request of the second son to stop the senseless slaughter of their countrymen. The older brother, tall and broad as a bull. The middle brother, fast and nimble as a snake. They came to clash blows three times before the older brother fell of the platform they were on. He stood up and readied himself just in time for his younger brother to pounce on him, striking as well. The younger brother's sword pierced the older brother through the throat and the older brother gutted his brother across the entirety of his belly.

Both fell and the country fell into chaos. Lords fought one another and to that situation the youngest returned to. He won against a variety of coalitions of Lords that propped up their own kings, numbering around twenty-nine lords, with only the support of 5.

It is speculated that the Lord of Demons later designed his insignia, the pentagram, in honour of these five loyal lords.

His education led to him developing inventions that to this day, five centuries in my day and age, are seen as advanced. He shared some with his neighbours, like the instant painting device that captures the likeness of anyone at a remarkably high price in an instant. However, the more important and most impressive of them, he kept to his own. Tales of devices that cut down the job of a tailor in half and carts that could move without horses and could eat ores such as coal, likely originate from that time.

The rise of his once largely insignificant nation gave him the power and position to demand favours from Lords and even Kings that wanted his alliance. Others in his position would ask for submission or unfair trade deals or coalitions against specific kingdoms or lords. He wanted access to texts he could not reach as a third son when he was studying. And Kings and Lords in their, forgive me for my words, ignorance in matters they wrongly perceived as unimportant or less Lord-like, gave him anything he asked for.

So, he came to know of the Runes of Before. The following description on what the Runes of Before are only permitted to be viewed by Highfathers. The Council of Gentlemen can only be privy to it by the permission of the current Highfather and his predecessor. Additionally, if any other predecessors are still in the land of men and have not ascended to the domain of the Lords and Ladies, their permission is also required. In the event that the Highfather has no living predecessors, he may not Show the Council until he serves his tenure and names a successor.

Runes of Before are carvings on a cave wall left behind by the Lords of Before, the creators of our World. The Lords of Before created our world for it to be their playground, and us mortals to be their playthings. Your fate and life depended on their moods and plays. To be a Godling that served as a mistress for a Lord, or to be a limbless and senseless pillow for a Lord to sit upon, was decided at their whims.

Our Lords and Ladies saw our plight and showed mercy upon us by fighting, defeating and banishing the Lords of Before. However, the clawing of theirs in their attempt to stay left behind scars on our world. The Runes of Before are one of such scars.

It is written in a language alien to us and forbidden for us to even try to understand. There were no records of what their contents are, even before our Grand Library was burnt. However, this did not deter the Lord of Demons. His curiosity was his strongest trait. Not even the alien nature of the language was able to deter him.

For you see, the King theorised that whilst we do not know what the runes mean, we may have once. That one of our ancestors from the Age of Before, nearly a decade-millennia ago, may have. And in his magnificent creativity, he found a way to reach out to those souls who had long since ascended to the grand feast in the domain of our Lords and Ladies.

What he did, I cannot remember. But the result was his mind amalgamating with the mind of his ancestor. Whatever happened then, we do not know but we speculate that the mind of his ancestor was unhealthy, damaged by the Lords of Before so much that the decade-millennia in the domain of our Lords and Ladies was unable to heal it. Because after the merging of their minds, the King went crazy.

He was deluded. He believed that since the Lords of Before were our creators, we should serve them. That we rightfully belong to them. That our Lords and Ladies were thieves. And that if he helped them return, he would ascend to be among our real creators.

Whatever he read on the Runes of Before granted him his power and abilities but also cursed his flesh to lose its skin forever, exposing the red insides outside and for his kingdom to be cursed by our Lords and Ladies. He fled to his cursed lands and since then has been plaguing our continent with his demons and curses.

This is as far as I can recall of the original book.

Rules for Lorevember

These are rules I came up for myself but whoever reads can also follow if they so wish.

From Day 4 onward, every day will be graded in a 3 star system. A star is granted each if they follow a set of 3 conditions:

-The piece is written at all.

-The piece is written on the assigned day. Not before or after.

-The piece includes the word of the day of a set chosen calendar. I chose Merriam-Webster. You are not allowed to mix and match between different sources to find one you like, it takes the challenge away.

Lorevember Day 3: Cursed / "What they don't know won't hurt them." / Past Lives

History is cyclical. It is far more than just a saying, but a fact of life. Because people are cyclical. Their lives are cyclical.

Reincarnation is belief common across the cultures of the World and it is a fact. People think of death as an ending, when in reality it is just a restart. Their souls rise into a higher plane that is unknown to us and, with no discernible pattern, come back down to be reborn again.

It is this that causes people to be cyclical, and history to be the same. A curse unknown to people.

Because people are born a certain way, it is in their soul to be so. They can grow and change but they cannot change their core. And even with that opportunity to change and grow, they follow a similar path each time. They react to the same situation the same way no matter what life and that makes them grow into the same people.

Once, a princess was assigned a personal Knight, to guard her. Her nation was at war and the people on the other side were known to resort to anything to get the job done. Eating mules on long trade routes, drinking poison to kill a sickness, trying to outlast it, and assassinating political opponents. For that reason, the knight had to follow the princess everywhere.

As one would expect, their time spent together could only bring them closer or make them dislike each other. Unfortunately for them, they came to admire one another. Because when the King died and the princess had to step up to the throne, she was forced to fulfill her duty and found a political match for herself.

She wished, on her wedding day, that they would be able to live out their lives together on the next one.

The curse that it is, reincarnation disappointed her.

In the next he was a farmer on an island, and she was a pirate. She saved him from another crew that pillaged his village and then helped him find his sister. They came to love one another and spent their time together in the cramped vessel. When their journey came to an end, her adventurous nature asked her to continue voyaging and he wanted to stay and rebuild his town, exhausted from the adventure.

In the next he was a blacksmith's apprentice and she was a Priestess with a holy mission. He was tasked to build a holy sword to defeat a demon by her God through her. He was forced to be torn from his village, from his parents and sister. Journeying across the land with her to receive training from Knights and Tribal Warriors. He hated that she gave him this unwanted purpose and tore him from his previous life, but as they travelled he came to love her all the same. And when he brought the demon low, prophecy played out like the God wanted and by happenstance forced him to put the sword into the demon's head through her heart, sealing the demon. He cursed the God for her fate and returned to his home, missing something even then. Never whole again.

It seems that souls can choose when or with who they reincarnate with, because these two always found each other in every life. Forced to be apart in each one. Whether as Knight and Princess, Farmer and Pirate, Hero and Priestess. By anything and everything. Be it Politics, Incompatibility in that life or Destiny and Prophecy.

Each time they wished their next life to be together, perhaps causing it to be so. Cursing themselves to an eternity of longing and suffering. At least, they can blindly hope that the next time would be better because they didn't know every single one has been the same and will be the same. What they don't know won't hurt them. Won't hurt them more.

Lorevember Day 2: "In the beginning..." / Lost in Translation / Language

Once upon a time, men ruled the world. Not lands they decided were their domain, but the world itself. It served them, every single one, for it was created for them and understood their commands.

It was a gift of their creator, who loved them so. Created them in exchange for nothing. Created the world for them to live in and for it to provide for them.

"Food!" They would ask and fruits would bore from newborn trees. "Water!" They would ask and the grains of sand in deserts would sprout the purest of water. "Fun!" They would ask, it would tell a tale. "Fight!" They would ask, and monsters would be born, created to be felled by it's master.

However it was a power too tempting for their mortal minds. "Power!" They would ask. "Curse him!" They would ask. "Kill her!" They would ask. And all would be done. Little by little, corrupted by their desires. Because they were made with the capability to do so. With a will to choose, and bodies and minds to shape. Born simply as men, becoming good and evil by choice.

And then one did ask the inevitable. "Why?" "Why am I not the creator?" "Why don't I have absolute power?"

And so their god took their power away. Scrambled their tongue so that they may never speak the Language of the World again. So they forsook their god. Cursed him with their tongue but never with an actual curse. But it hurt the god more than a curse would.

They thought he stifled them in fear. In pride. In jealousy.

He stifled them in fear for them. For he would allow them to destroy him, he loved them so much. If it were not for what would become of them if they did.

His existence protected them. Because he was not one of a kind. Others like him, others unlike him, others that were neither existed. Some good like him, others who would toy with them in unspeakable ways, others that would simply end their existence without any emotion.

He protected them, took their gift away in doing so. So they cursed him.

He loved them anyways.

Lorevember Day 1: "Once upon a time…" / Forgotten Origins / Ancient Prophecies

Once upon a time, there was nothing. A void with no start and no end. So devoid of things that there wasn't even darkness. Not a white canvas free of paint, not a black empty space devoid of planets. Simply nothing, a concept foreign to our mortal minds.

Which is something that was purposefully done. That we are unable to comprehend such nothingness because we were made that way.

Because that nothingness was ended by something, something that doesn't want anyone to remember, or to even think of it. That wanted to erase /nothingness/

There is a paradox in that. You cannot erase nothing. You can only make it disappear for a time. Nothing is the absence of something. You can only fill the nothing with something. But eventually, as all things that exist and are something do, the placeholder will leave. Die, disappear, whatever it is.

And nothing will return.